


Help Me Find My Way

by leethom99



Category: Legally Blonde - All Media Types, Legally Blonde - Hach/O'Keefe/Benjamin
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Miscommunication, Multi, Original Character(s), Other, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25779658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leethom99/pseuds/leethom99
Summary: Emmett hears about Warner's proposal to Elle after the trial, and assumes the worst.--Emmett and Elle’s embrace lasts longer than is probably appropriate in a public setting, better yet at a courthouse. But Emmett doesn’t care. Elle— his Elle— has done the near-impossible— no, the impossible— and won a murder trial as a first year law student. She is incredible, Emmett thinks, for the 1000th time this year.When they finally break apart from the hug, she looks up at him, her lips just inches from his. “I couldn’t have done this without you” she whispers, her serious tone betraying her trademark grin.“Elle…” Emmett’s breath hitches. Is this it? The way she’s batting her eyelashes at him, her eyes wide in anticipation for his response— is this the moment to tell her? Could she feel the same way? Emmett’s mind races as his mouth remains open, slack, as if he’s forgotten how to speak.
Relationships: Emmett Forrest & Elle Woods, Emmett Forrest/Elle Woods
Comments: 19
Kudos: 75





	1. The Bench

Emmett and Elle’s embrace lasts longer than is probably appropriate in a public setting, better yet at a courthouse. But Emmett doesn’t care. Elle— his Elle— has done the near-impossible— no, the impossible— and won a murder trial as a first year law student. _She is incredible_ , Emmett thinks, for the 1000th time this year.

When they finally break apart from the hug, she looks up at him, her lips just inches from his. “I couldn’t have done this without you” she whispers, her serious tone betraying her trademark grin.

“Elle…” Emmett’s breath hitches. Is this it? The way she’s batting her eyelashes at him, her eyes wide in anticipation for his response— is this the moment to tell her? Could she feel the same way? Emmett’s mind races as his mouth remains open, slack, as if he’s forgotten how to speak. Elle giggles nervously.

“Yes? Emmett, you’re scaring me”

“Elle I…” he takes a deep breath, gathering all the courage he can muster. And then he sees it. Sees him. Warner paces awkwardly behind Elle, just within Emmett’s peripheral vision. He keeps glancing over at them, glaring at Emmett’s hands placed just above Elle’s hips.

“I… I’m going to see you later”. Elle frowns as Emmett pulls away from her. He gestures behind her and she turns, spotting Warner.

“Later?” Elle grabs Emmett’s hand before he heads out the door. Her voice is shaky, hopeful. What does it mean? _It means nothing, she’s just happy about the trial_ , Emmett thinks. _She wants to celebrate, as friends_.

“Later”, Emmett promises. He turns and walks out, confident in his decision. He couldn’t possibly share his feelings with Elle before she gets closure from Warner, the reason she came to Harvard in the first place.

Emmett sneaks out of the courthouse, dodging reporters and flashing cameras. He glances at his car before walking right past it, deciding the crisp April air is perfect for a walk. Besides, he wouldn’t trust himself behind the wheel right now. His thoughts are moving at 100 miles per hour, analyzing the past day and a half. What will his new life look like? Who will he become? He stuffs his hands in his pockets and strides, without realizing, right past his apartment and towards campus. Who is he as a lawyer, without Callahan? And as a person, with Elle? How could he possibly convince her that he is worthy of her love?

Regardless, Emmett is giddy. No, that’s not the right word. He’s at peace. He’s happy. With his impulsive career decision, his still upright moral compass, and his personal life. Well, Elle. She’s pretty much the only personal life he’s got. Not that he minds. Emmett’s known he’s in love with her since their trip to the department store. When she transformed him into Warner, before immediately reassuring him that it’s him—not his makeover— that matters to her. That’s who Elle is: kind, thoughtful, supportive, and, of course, mildly obsessed with shopping for men.

_And she loves him_. That’s the thought that carries him, floating, through Harvard Yard, towards a certain bench. She must, right? All of their study sleepovers, longing looks, the constant hand holding. Paulette’s even hinted at it a few times. So she must be evil, or the most oblivious person in the world, if she doesn’t, and still acts how she does. _Elle loves him_.

This is the thought in Emmett’s head as he plops down on the bench. Finally realizing where he’d walked, Emmett chuckles to himself, patting the spot where, five months ago, he found a distraught Elle in a bunny costume. Where his life changed course forever. Lost in his own memory of the encounter, Emmett doesn’t hear Vivian talking to him until she waves her hands in front of his face.

“Hello! Earth to Forrest!”

Emmett snaps out of the trance, looking up to find his and Elle’s enemy turned ally standing above him. “Hey Vivian, sorry, I was just—“

“I get it. Big day.” She sits down next to him and rummages through her purse, eventually pulling out a bottle of cheap wine and plastic cups. “Want some?”

“Uh, sure?” Emmet studies Vivian, who doesn’t seem to be opening the bottle in celebration, as he’d expect. “By the way, Vivian, I never got the chance to say thank you. For convincing Elle to stay.”

Vivian laughs bitterly as she begins pouring.“Yeah, well, it was worth it. We won the case. Yay!”. She clinks cups with Emmett, her face flat, and downs the wine in one large chug. Emmett gently sets his cup on the ground, turning to face her.

“Are you ok? We should be celebrating, but you don’t seem—“

“Warner just proposed to Elle”

The words hang in the air, the silence suffocating Emmett. _Did he hear her correctly? That can’t be. No way would Elle do that. Plus, Warner is with Vivian. Unless…_

“I dumped him”. Vivian studies Emmett, reading his thoughts like a book. “Watching him handle the Callahan fiasco disgusted me. I saw him for who he really is.” She pours herself another cup.

Emmett stares ahead, still struggling to process what she’s told him. Vivian continues.

“I know it’s dumb to be upset. I mean, I dumped him. And then I helped to win a murder trial that will guarantee me a fantastic internship this summer. But still… I thought he cared. About me. You know? But no, Warner Huntington the Third only cares about himself, and his reputation. And now Elle’s the one who will guarantee his name in the papers.”

Emmett blinks, still unable to speak. He quietly picks up his wine cup, downing it.

“I was on my way to have a personal pity party in my room, but then I saw you here, and figured you should know… I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.” She pours him more wine.

“Thank you” Emmett’s words come out in a whisper.

“If it’s any consolation, I was really rooting for you two. You bring out the best in each other.”

“What?” he finally looks at her.

“Don’t play dumb, Forrest, everyone can see you’re in love with her. Even Callahan. I think that’s why he did it, some weird power play to show you who’s boss.”

Vivian doesn’t mean to imply that Emmett is the reason Elle was assaulted, and nearly left school, but that’s all he hears. A loud ringing sound starts piercing his ears. _This can’t be happening,_ he thinks, over and over again. Did he not know her at all? After all they’ve been through, she’d still go running back to that asshole?

“I thought… I was… I was going to tell her how I feel. Tonight.” Emmett winces as Vivian puts a hand on his shoulder. “God, how could I be so stupid?”

Vivian chugs straight from the bottle, finishing it with a flourish. “I need something stronger than this. Do you want to get a drink?”

Emmett nods, words still struggling to form. They walk in silence towards the dingiest, darkest bar they can think of. Emmett glances back at the bench, the place where just minutes ago he was fantasizing about one day proposing to Elle. It just looks empty and cold.


	2. To Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle goes looking for Emmett after Warner's proposal

Elle hurries down the street towards campus, her Mom’s black coat pulled tight around her for warmth. She’d swapped it for her bright pink one back at the courthouse, so she could avoid the swarm of reporters she knew were waiting just outside. “I need to go find Emmett” Elle had told her parents, her mind still reeling from Warner’s abrupt proposal. “I need to talk to him, now”. 

She smiles when she sees Emmett’s car still sitting in the parking lot. She imagines him strolling through Cambridge, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, grinning as he thinks back on his big victory. 

_Did you really think I’d let you get away?_

Emmett’s words from earlier play on a loop in Elle’s head. When she was making her closing argument, when the judge removed Brooke’s handcuffs and said she's free to go, when Emmett wrapped her in a hug the second the judge banged her gavel. _Did you really think I’d let you get away?_ It’s all she can think about. 

And then when Emmett did let her get away, to give her what he presumably saw as the closure she needed with Warner, Elle's heart soared even more. That’s Emmett: supportive, loving, and always aware of what Elle needs, even when she isn’t. Elle was still thinking about this, and all the things she loves about Emmett, when Warner got down on one knee and presented her with a ring — _the same ring that had been on Vivian's finger just a day before_. 

Elle immediately broke out in a massive grin, leading Warner to believe she was saying yes. But she wasn’t. Her grin came with the final, full epiphany that she is a new person. She finally got what she’d came to Harvard for—and it was no longer what she wanted. An image flashed before her of Emmett dropping to one knee, and her resolve strengthened: She’s no one’s arm candy. Elle Woods needs a partner, a true equal, someone who champions her beyond her pink facade, not a dud like Warner. So, as gently as she could,Elle rejected Warner before going to find her parents, and then, of course, Emmett.

When did Elle know she loves Emmett? She thinks about this as she power walks towards the Yard, and the bench where she thinks—hopes—Emmett will be waiting. She’s loved him for months, she decides, but it took her until yesterday to realize it is more than platonic, best friend love. The look on Emmett's face when she said she was leaving broke her heart—and she knew, then, that not only was he in love with her—with who she really is, not the sorority girl she's judged as — but she is totally, madly, deeply in love with him as well. Which is why she needed to leave Harvard. She would never be good enough for Emmett Forrest.

But then Vivian and Paulette convinced her this trial was bigger than herself. She needed to stay for Brooke. _But she wanted to stay for Emmett_ , the back of her mind reminded her. 

Elle turns a corner, and her smile dissipates. Emmett isn’t on the bench. She heads to her dorm, where she thinks, maybe, he let himself in with his spare key. But he’s not there either. Frowning, Elle pulls out her phone to call him. No- this needs to be in person. So she texts him instead. 

**Thought I’d find you at our bench but no luck! *shrug emoji* Heading to Brooke’s party at Paulette’s, meet you there? I really need to talk to you about something.** ****

She presses send and stares at her phone, hoping for the quick, auto-correct filled reply that she usually gets from Emmett. Nothing comes. She throws her phone on her bed and begins to change for the party. Knowing it’s where she’ll tell Emmett everything, her outfit has to be perfect. And pink, obviously.


	3. Liquid Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmett and Vivian drink their sorrows away (aka I could not WAIT to write drunk sadboi Emmett)

Emmett’s phone buzzes, but he’s too drunk to notice. Besides, he handed it over to the bartender an hour ago for safe keeping, terrified he’d open it to find a text from Elle confirming his worst nightmare.

“To professional success and personal hell!” Vivian clinks her shot glass against Emmett’s. 

“To me not having a job!” They down their fifth tequila shot— or was it sixth? Emmett had stopped counting. Whatever it took to black out and forget this day had happened was the amount he would drink. The amount _they_ would drink. Misery loves company. 

“I can’t believe I ever agreed to marry him” Vivian slurs, sucking on a lime wedge. 

“I’m so glad we’re friends now so I can tell you how much he sucks” Emmett giggles, then hiccups. This makes them both fall over into fits of laughter. 

“He really sucks!” Vivian declares. “Anyone who makes you call them ‘the third’ automatically sucks. God, I suck for not seeing that before”

“No, no, no, you do not suck.” Emmett places a hand on Vivian's arm and stares into her eyes with the kind of focus only a drunk person can summon. “You are Vivian Kensington, top of your class at Harvard Law, and a nice person who I used to think was not nice but you are, indeed, nice. You deserve the world”. 

Vivian rolls her eyes and turns to the bartender, motioning to him for another round. He swiftly hands over two more shots, already knowing they’d be ordering another. She holds one out to Emmett, this time meeting his gaze intently.

“And you are Emmett Forrest, the best damn future associate in Boston. To hell with anyone who doesn’t see you for you. To hell with Elle!” 

“To hell with Elle!” Emmett slur-yells, downing the shot. They sit in silence for a moment, drunk empowerment turning to empty sadness.

“I guess not to _hell_ with Elle. I mean, she is a good person and has such nice shoes and hair and skin” Vivian mumbles, staring down into her empty glass. “But she’s dumb for not seeing what she has with you.” 

Emmett bursts into laughter, startling Vivian. He clutches his stomach, crying from the hysterical fit of giggles. Vivian and the bartender exchange a confused glance.

“Emmett… what’s happening?” 

“No, I mean yes, it’s just…” Emmett wipes his eyes, trying to speak but finding it hard to stop the maniacal laughter. “It’s just _funny_. Elle almost left Harvard because she thought everyone was using her- Callahan, Warner— when really, this whole time, _she_ was using _me_. For my tutoring. Or my company, I don't know. She used me and she got exactly what-who-she wanted. Isn’t that funny? It's funny!”

Emmett’s laughter rises, getting more and more hysterical by the second. Vivian sets down her glass and rubs his back awkwardly, not sure how to comfort someone at all, better yet while they're both plastered. 

“I’m so sorry Emmett.” 

That’s all she needed to say for Emmett’s laugh to nosedive into deep, heaving sobs. He puts his head on the bar, muffling the crying into his arms. 

“Oh no, oh no I’m sorry I didn’t—“ Vivian looks at the bartender for help, who just shrugs and turns away. “Let’s focus on the good stuff! You’re a law rockstar. A lawkstar! I’m sure you already have emails from big firms trying to hire you. It's everything you’ve ever worked for.” 

“Yeah well, priorities change” Emmett mumbles. He sits up, looking at her with his sad, puppy dog eyes, and Vivian tries not to wince at his puffy face and glassy, drunk gaze. He's in no state to be in public. 

“Let’s get you home. We can email some people, update your resume, set up a few meetings with firms before you lose your liquid confidence. I think that's a _great_ idea for right now.”

“Can I drink more?” 

“Whatever your heart desires, Forrest. But for my sake I really hope you have Don Julio ”. Vivian pats Emmett on the back as he pulls her into a tight hug. Her breath stops— _he’s just drunk, very very drunk. Don’t do anything stupid, you’re drunk too—_ she thinks. 

“I hate the color pink” He whispers into her shoulder. He jolts up, turning towards the surrounding bar patrons.“All pink is BANNED!”. Vivian sees the bartender stand to attention and takes it as their cue to go, immediately. It's not unusual to get wildly drunk at a Cambridge bar, but it's a whole other ordeal to be kicked out of one. Even while hammered, Vivian has to think about her career. 

Laughing to keep from crying, the two new friends stumble out into the crisp, Boston night, clutching one another to keep from falling over. Neither notice the phone that they've left behind.


	4. Love (by Chanel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle heads to a post-trial party at Paulette's. But she's really just looking for Emmett. 
> 
> ..... I promise it gets happier soon :)

Elle stops at the corner of Mass Ave and 5th, smoothing out the pink Prada mini dress that shows off her long, spray-tanned legs. She glances over her outfit, her jewelry, her purse, for the fiftieth time this hour. _Why are you so nervous? You just won a murder case. As a 23 year old!_ the little voice in her head reminds her. _I know, I know_ , she thinks. But for whatever reason, the prospect of seeing Emmett is making her palms sweat more than the prospect of her almost causing Brooke to spend life in prison. 

Elle is pretty sure that after tonight, her world is going to change forever. And even though Emmett sees beyond the blonde, and the pink, she still wants his jaw to be on the floor when he first lays eyes on her. That little dopey smile of his is exactly how their perfect life together should begin. 

She pulls out her outfit’s finishing touch - Love by Chanel - and spritzes it on her neck and wrists. Inhaling the floral scent, Elle grins — every time she puts on her new favorite perfume, it brings her right back to that car ride home from the department store.

“ _God, Elle, I think you got it in my eyes!” Emmett laughs as he rubs his sleeve over his face, his temporary blindness causing the car to swerve. “I smell like Harvard garden in May”_

_“Be careful!” Elle leans over to grab the steering wheel, giggling as they narrowly avoid a very angry Honda. “Emmett, you’re about as good of a driver as you are a dresser”_

_“Well, I—“ Before Emmett can get out his snarky response, his phone rings. Elle pulls it from his bag, showing him MOM on the caller ID._

_“You can just ignore it”._

_“Em, she’s called three times. What if something’s wrong?” Before Emmett can protest, Elle has flipped open the Samsung and put it on Speakerphone. “Hi Ms. Forrest! Emmett is driving, so this is his friend Elle. You’re on speakerphone!”_

_“Oh my God, THE Elle?!” Emmett’s mom’s thick New York accent booms through the tiny phone. Elle turns to Emmett, giddily eating up his embarrassment._

_“Hi Mom, is everything alright?”  
_

_“Yeah, yeah I was just bored on a walk. Now Elle, tell me about YOU! Emmett talks about you all the time, I can't wait to meet you. I hear you’re the smartest in your class. And beautiful. And from sunny Malibu! So I just gotta ask- what's a brainy bombshell like you doing with a shmuck like my Emmett?”_

_“Ok Mom we’re pulling up to campustalktoyoulaterbye!!!” Emmett flips the phone shut and throws it into the backseat in one swift motion. He stares ahead, mortified._

_They sit in silence for a few long seconds, Emmett occasionally glancing over at Elle, who giggles to herself, avoiding his gaze out the window._

_They pull up in front of Elle’s dorm. She takes off her seatbelt and climbs out of the car, leaning down to finally face him._

_“So what do you think?”_

_“Of…”_

_“Love!” She raises her eyebrows expectantly at him. He just stares at her._

_“Elle, uh, I…”_

_“Love. The perfume? You’ve been wafting it for like, an hour now”._

_“OH! Of course. Right. Yeah" He laughs nervously. "Yeah I like it. You should wear it. Love suits you”_

_“And you. You shmuck.” Elle winks and pushes the car door shut, giving a little wave as she saunters back to her room._

Elle snaps back to reality, cherishing, but cringing at, the memory. _God, we were such dorks. Who were terrible at double entendre. And totally, completely, helplessly in love._

She takes another whiff and steels herself, turning the corner towards A Hair Affair. To her surprise, the salon is completely dark. No sign of an event, or of anyone. She checks her watch — it’s 7:41PM, and the party was supposed to start at 7. Did she miss a text? Elle continues ahead towards the glass doors and tries them, surprised to find they’re unlocked.

“Paulette?” She gently pushes one of them open, when a cacophony of noise and lights temporarily blind her.

“SURPRISE!!!!”

She blinks a few times and immediately tears up, breathlessly grateful at the sight in front of her. 

All of her people — her parents, Paulette, the Delta Nu’s, Brooke, Kyle, Enid, her Harvard class and the salon girls— hold champagne and party poppers, cheering her name. Except, she quickly notes after a scan of the room, Emmett and Vivienne. 

“Omigod you guys… what is this?!” 

“Paulette and I decided it would be ludicrous to throw a party for me, when YOU are the entire reason I’m not rotting in jail! You and your wonderful, brilliant, beautiful pink brain!” Brooke runs forward to envelope Elle in a hug, passing her a flute of champagne. 

Paulette holds up her glass, Kyle’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist from behind. “To our Elle, who today reminded us all of the importance of perseverance, being yourself, and knowing the basic rules of hair care” 

“To Elle!” The crowd knocks back their drinks as Pilar cranks up the music. 

“Okay, okay, we get it, Elle is like, totally smart. Now let’s party!” 

— 

“I’m just saying, I know you have your parents house, but if you and… a certain someone... want privacy, I do have a big ass beachfront mansion in Malibu that you can stay in any time” Brooke squeezes Elle’s arm and winks, glancing around for Emmett. “Where is my favorite co-counsel anyway?” 

“I haven’t seen him!” Elle tries to keep her tone light, chugging what’s left of her drink to mask her anxiety. _Where could he possibly be?_

“Well, I’m sure he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to get you alone in a big, booze filled house. Did I mention it’s beachfront?!” 

“Omigod did someone say beachfront?” Margot appears out of the throng of people, drunkenly grabbing Brooke to steady herself. “Bee tee dubs, I’m going to Lauren Conrad’s pool party next week, you both should totally come. I’m like, so over Audrina but there will be hot guys, so…” 

As Brooke and Margot exchange numbers and Hollywood stories, Elle excuses herself, ducking back into the crowd. She does yet another scan of the room, still finding no sign of her ratty corduroy boy. 

But suddenly, someone's arms are around Elle, and she’s ripped away from the party into a dark room. _Emmett?!_ But as her eyes adjust, Elle realizes she's in the supply closet where just yesterday she changed into her pink lawyer suit for the first time. The light flips on, and she comes face to face with Paulette.

“Honey, you’re in the supply ca-loset!” Elle mimics Paulette, grinning at her impression of the Boston accent.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, well I needed you alone!” 

“So we can talk about Kyle BRENDAN O’Boyle?! Your Irish man?! I am so beyond happy for you, Paulette.” Elle squeezes her friend, feeling a rush of gratitude for the woman who singlehandedly kept Elle from making so many bad decisions the past six months.

“Oh I know, I can’t wait to just rip his clothes off and—wow, here I am getting carried away. This is not about me! Elle, where is Emmett?! I haven't seen him at all!" 

“I have no idea! I’m so nervous waiting for him to show up I’ve had about five too many cocktails. I texted him, and called, and left a voicemail, but nothing.” Elle stares at her hands, fiddling with her many rings. “Do you think, maybe, he realized what a big mistake he’d made, quitting his one shot at a fancy law firm? I mean, here I am, planning us a big Spring Break trip to LA so I can show him my home, and he may have lost interest all together. He may hate me!” 

Paulette’s eyes widen, confused. “Elle, there’s a better chance that Emmett slipped and hit his head on his way out the door than him losing interest. That boy is so head over heels for you he can barely keep it together! I once told him I thought you'd be happier with him than Warner, and he turned into a little giggly schoolboy for Chrissake!” 

Elle lets out a little smile, cherishing the reassuring words. “But then where is he? What if something really did happen?” 

“Go find out, honey! Everyone here is too drunk to notice if you slip away. Besides, who would you rather be celebrating with?” 

— 

Elle stands in front of Emmett’s apartment building, her arms wrapped around herself for warmth. She’s been there for fifteen minutes, trying to work up the courage to head up to unit 302. _Come on you big baby, what’s the worst that could happen?_ She catches a glimpse of herself in the window, and rubs away some smeared makeup. _He’s seen you in unicorn PJs, with Red Bull drool dripping down your chin. Suck it up, Woods!_ Elle takes a deep breath and channels every ounce of badass lawyer energy she has left. She struts up the stairs.

At the landing of floor three, she hears a CRASH from what sounds like Emmett’s apartment. She hurries over, about to knock when — BOOM! — _Okay that was definitely something hard hitting the floor. What if Emmett really is in trouble?_ Elle reaches for the spare key hidden behind the hall lamp and unlocks the door, her fear for Emmett's wellbeing outweighing any nerves she has left. 

_This can’t be happening._

Elle stands in the doorway, watching as Emmett— _my Emmett—_ chases Vivienne around the kitchen, knocking over bowls and pans as he does. CRASH! Vivienne shrieks with laughter, yelling for surrender and falling to the floor. 

“Emmett stop! You’re the fucking worst, give me my phone!” 

And that’s when Elle sees it. Along with one of his old Harvard shirts, Vivienne is wearing Emmett’s Bugs Bunny boxers that Elle got him as a birthday gift. The boxers that were an homage to his first 'What’s up, Doc?' to her that fateful costume party night. And Emmett?-- _My Emmett--_ He's barely wearing any clothes at all. 

Neither notice her standing there. Elle wants to scream, or hit someone, or throw something, but she can’t seem to move. She watches the chaos for what feels like hours before quietly stepping backwards and shutting the door.

The silence of the hallway suffocates Elle, whose vision begins to warp before her. It all makes sense now, doesn't it? He's just another Warner. Another Callahan. 

But that doesn’t make any sense at all. 

As she sprints down the stairs, bursts into the cold night and runs down the sidewalk towards her dorm, her mind plays Emmett's voice on a distorted loop:

_Did you really think i’d let you get away? Did you really think i’d let you get away? Did you really think i’d let you get away?_

Elle trips and falls over her heels, landing with a thud on the concrete. She turns her head and hurls. 


	5. A Night to Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmett tries to piece together what happened the night before. 
> 
> ....drunk sadboi Emmett obviously leads to devastatingly hungover sadboi Emmett. But with new pal Vivienne!

The first time Emmett wakes up, he only makes it two steps from bed before sprinting to the bathroom to throw up. The world spins around him as he stumbles back to the comfort and relative darkness of his pillow.

The second time he stirs, two hours later, it’s because he can feel the body next to him moving around in the sheets. “Mm, Elle, come here” he mumbles, scooting himself towards her. He spoons her lightly from behind, wrapping his muscular arms around her waist. “I’m too hungover for today” he whispers into her dark hair— _W_ _ait. Dark hair?!_

Emmett looks up at the mess of brown, shoulder length strands in front of him and shoots up, ignoring his ringing headache and nausea. He scrambles backwards until he’s fallen off the opposite side with a THUD. 

“Shut up please it’s too loud” Vivienne murmurs from under the covers. Emmett peeks up at her, exhaling swiftly when he sees she is, in fact, wearing a t-shirt and shorts. 

_What the fuck did you do, Emmett?_

“Hey, uh, Vivienne. What did… I mean, did we, uh, well.. what…” Emmett trails off, rubbing his eyes as if to make the vision in front of him disappear. 

Vivienne finally lifts her head, propping herself up on her elbows with a grunt. “Relax, Forrest, nothing happened. Well, the proposal happened. And then a lot of tequila. And some emailing to some law firms. But nothing between us”. She winces as she watches the proposal realization rush over Emmett again, feeling sorry that he’s had to hear the horrible news for the first time twice. 

“Emailed law firms?! Oh God…” Emmet dives back onto his side of the bed, burying his head in the pillows. "I’m going back to my original statement of being too hungover for today. Goodbye!” Vivienne pats his back as he lets out a groan. 

“Coffee?”

“Yes please,” he mumbles. 

Vivienne climbs out of bed, running a hand through her hair as she strides to the kitchen. “Holy hell we made a mess in here!” She yells back to him. “Were we _throwing_ baking pans?!” She continues to narrate the scene as Emmett buries himself deeper in the pillows, not able to handle the loud noise. Ten minutes of banging and whirring later -- 

“Forrest! Come get it!”

Emmett rolls himself up and stumbles to the kitchen. When he sees Vivienne standing there, his heart stops. 

“What? Need to puke again?” 

“No uh… your shorts”. Emmett nods to the Bugs Bunny boxers peaking out from under Vivienne’s— well, Emmett’s— oversized shirt. “Elle got them for me. For my birthday”.

“Oh, I heard!” Vivienne hands Emmett his coffee and sinks into a chair. “It took a lot of convincing to keep you from burning them on the stovetop” she laughs, without any joy. “Finally I just said I’d keep them. But that was the tequila talking. Regardless of how it ended, Elle is an important part of your life. You should have them”. 

Emmett stares at his mug, not wanting Vivienne to see the pain on his face. “Thank you for being here, Vivienne. I know we didn’t exactly have a real relationship before this”. 

“No, really, thank _you_. I would’ve made a whole lot of bad decisions if I were alone last night. Well, maybe I wouldn’t have lost my phone, but…”

“What?”

“Your Samsung. We couldn’t find it anywhere, I think you left it at the bar. Scared of getting a call from you-know-who.”

“Agh”. He hangs his head, gripping the mug with both hands. “I really don’t want to go out in public today”

“A brisk walk will do you some good. I can smell your breath from here”. Vivienne smiles from the edge of her cup, her hangover seemingly gone after a few sips of magic brew. 

“Do I really need a cell phone? I mean, I have my computer, the newspapers, a TV…” 

“Emmett. The truth sucks, but we can’t escape it. Time to get to work on a new future”.

— 

An hour and a half later, Emmett has finally managed to shower, get dressed, and walk Vivienne (whose hangover finally hit her — and hard) back to her dorm. He cuts through campus to get to Devine’s, the dark, sticky dive bar where he’d apparently spent multiple hours last night. Not that he can remember. 

It being barely noon, the bar is very much not open, but Emmett thinks he sees someone inside. He pushes the door open, stepping into the dingy light. “Hello?” he calls. 

“We’re closed!” A gruff voice yells from the back. Emmett stuffs his hands in his pockets, wincing at the artificial lighting. “I know, I just came to get my phone!” He yells in return.

The bartender appears from the back room, breaking into a grin as soon as he sees Emmett. “Well if it ain’t my number one customer! Man, I gotta say, I’m surprised you’re vertical. Big night last night!” 

Emmett’s ears redden, his mind racing with all the embarrassing things he obviously did and can’t remember. “Right. Uh, did you happen to find a cell phone? I think I left mine here. Samsung, small, black, rectangular?” 

The bartender whistles, reaching up to a cabinet. “Man, you’re a riot! You really don’t remember? You didn’t leave it here, amigo, you made me swear to you four times that I wouldn’t give this phone back under any circumstances. You must be one helluva drunk texter”. He pulls Emmett’s phone off the shelf and throws it to him. 

Emmett, flustered, barely catches it, as it bounces against his chest. “It wasn’t an outgoing text I was worried about”, he mumbles. “It was an incoming one”. 

“Ah, I like the way you think. Can’t hurt ya if you don’t see it”.The bartender hoists a box of empty liquor bottles onto his shoulder and turns towards the back. “But ya can’t hide from the truth forever. My advice? Rip the bandaid off. No way she can hurt you more than your hangover is hurting ya now.” 

“How’d you know it’s a she?”

“All pink is BANNED! And blondes! And lawyers!” The bartender mock-yells. He lets out a deep, booming laugh, shaking his head at Emmett. “A riot! Come back soon, alright? I like your not-blonde friend” He wags his eyebrows and turns, carrying out the box the way he came. 

In the quiet of the empty room, Emmett sits himself at a bar stool, looking down at the low-battery screen. 4 text messages, 3 missed calls and 2 voicemails. All from her. _She must be feeling guilty_ , he thinks. _Well, I can’t avoid it forever_. _She needs to know how I feel, and that I don’t know if we can be friends anymore._ He opens the texts first. 

**[6:49PM] Thought I’d find you at our bench but no luck! *shrug emoji* Heading to Brooke’s party at Paulette’s, meet you there? I really need to talk to you about something.** ****

**[8:04PM] Hurry up and get here! You’re missing Paulette teach my mom the bend and snap…*shudder* :)** ****

**[8:36PM] Hello? Em, I’m starting to worry. Where are you?** ****

**[9:08PM] ???????? Emmett????** ****

He can barely read the rest of the texts after the first. _She called it our bench_. He shakes his head, his grief turning into anger. _How dare she?!_ Two of the missed calls and one of the voicemails are from after the last text message. He presses play. Elle yells into the phone, obviously trying to get some quiet amidst the party. 

**_[9:25PM] Emmett! Where are you?! I can’t celebrate without you. Besides, I have something I really need to tell you. Get here soon or I’m coming to find you! Ok? Bye!_ **

Emmett lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding. _How can she be so blasé about telling me this news? How does she not see it?_ He finds himself getting angry that she never did come to find him. Shows how much she cares. 

The next voicemail is from this morning, just a half hour ago. He takes a deep breath and presses play. 

**_[11:22AM] Hi, Um… Look. I don’t know what happened last night but, yeah. I thought I should tell you. I’m on my way to the airport to go home. Not for good, just…thought I deserved a break, for a little. And it’s spring break, so… I don’t really know why I’m calling you to be honest. Just in case you care. That’s where I’ll be. Okay. Goodbye, Emmett._ ** ****

Emmett swears his heart stops beating for a few seconds. _LA? So much for facing the truth_. He can’t believe it. After all they’ve been through, she can’t even bring herself to speak with him about the engagement in person. She’s running away. Emmett feels a sudden need for action, and dials a number before he can stop himself. 

“What?!” Vivian grumbles through the phone. She had obviously fallen back asleep.

“I think we deserve a day off from working. To actually celebrate winning the case. Do you want to make some Bloody’s with me?” 

There’s a long pause at the other end of the line. Emmett thinks he can hear her sitting up and adjusting her grip on the phone. “Emmett. What happened?”

“She’s gone.” He can barely bring himself to say it out loud. “She left me a voicemail… on her way to the airport. Spring break”. He laughs bitterly, remembering all of the raunchy spring break stories Elle told him about UCLA. Vivian sighs.

“I’ll be over in 20.”


	6. We All Flew Here on Jet Blue (Thank You!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle flies home to sunny Los Angeles, though her mood is anything but.
> 
> ... a bit more turbulence for E + E before the fun stuff. Stick with it!

“I’m sorry! I just, like, totally blanked. Yeah, I’ll see you soon. Double Delta Nu Sister Swear. OK. Yeah, Serena, love you too! Bye!” Elle sighs, immediately abandoning her bubbly phone voice and dropping her cell into her massive pink carry-on. She sits at the airport gate, mindlessly petting Bruiser in his transport case. 

Elle had been such a mess the night before that she booked a flight and beelined to the airport before realizing she probably should have coordinated with her parents, or the Delta Nus, or Brooke, all of whom are all heading back to the west coast today as well. 

But secretly, this alone time is all Elle wanted. The idea of spending six hours gabbing with her girls about facials, or fashion, or Justin Timberlake, would be just too much for her broken heart to handle. _Did you really think I’d let you get away?_

After basically crawling back to her dorm last night, where she collapsed on her bed in a fit of sobs, Elle had spent hours trying to piece together how this possibly could have happened. _Was Vivienne out to get me all along? Was bringing me back all a ruse, to get her final revenge?_ The thought of losing who she thought had become a much-needed female ally in this stuffy world was doubly heart breaking for Elle. 

And then there was Emmett. _How could he?_ Her brain refused to process the information, keeping her squarely in the disbelief step in the grieving process. She was surprised to find how upset she was at not only at losing her future partner, and boyfriend, but also in losing her absolute best friend in the world. Before Emmett, Elle had established friends by finding girls with similar interests — usually fashion, or getting fashionably drunk—but Emmett was the first friend she felt like truly understood her on a molecular level. _He is so deeply in love with you_ the little voice says. _Yeah, right._

Elle boards the plane, barely noticing the world around her as her thoughts are consumed by memories of Emmett and their friendship. She definitely doesn’t notice the tall, strapping young man who discretely swaps seats with an elderly lady so he can be placed right next to Elle. 

_If you can hear, can I just say, how much I want you to stay?_

Bruiser jumps into Elle’s lap, knowing with that dog-sixth-sense that she’s in need of some comfort. The young man puts his hand out so Bruiser can sniff him, the dog yapping and licking him in delight. 

_“_ What a cute dog. What’s her name?”

Elle looks up, seeing the man for the first time. She’s too sad and tired to even register his chiseled cheekbones, sandy blonde hair and blindingly white teeth. “He’s a him. Bruiser” 

“Ah, I just assumed, because of all of the pink…” 

“It’s my signature color”. Elle smiles sadly at the man, snuggling Bruiser to her chest. _Pink has always been my signature color. Why does it feel so wrong, so behind me now?_

Elle attempts to keep her mind occupied with anything but Emmett by focusing on her upcoming finals. Apparently, even winning a murder trial does not exempt Harvard Law students from the brutal, multi-hour exams. 

The last Boston-LA flight she was on, Elle spent the trip leafing through a stack of Cosmos, bookmarking hairstyles she wanted to try for her eventual wedding to Warner. Now, only six months later, she’s flying the opposite direction, staring down a stack of law books, bookmarking cases she wants to research more when she lands. _God how my life has changed_. _I’m basically a new person. But—_

_“You’re not a new person!” Emmett stands up abruptly, knocking a litany of empty Redbull cans off Elle’s desk. She’s taken aback by his sudden aggression. It’s 2AM, and they’ve been on a flashcard roll for hours._

_“But I am, Emmett. Think about it. Would the old me have spent a long weekend holed up in a tiny, dark room studying? MLK weekend is for skiing, or escapes to Cabo! Not TORTS and Criminal Law”. She holds up a thick textbook to emphasize her point. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s a good thing! It’s progress!”_

_“Bullshit!” Emmett strides across the room, nearly knocking over Elle at her desk._

_“Why are you so worked up about this?”_

_“Because!” Emmett runs a hand through his hair and begins pacing back and forth, adrenaline (and Red Bull) pulsing through him. “Because I like you. That old you, that you think you’ve shed. You’re not a lizard, you can’t just take off a layer and become brand new!”_

_“Why not? Isn’t that the point of life? Growth, learning, changing?”_

_Emmett sits back on the bed again, visibly frustrated that she’s not getting his point. He looks at his feet. “You can grow, and learn, and change. But when all is said and done, you’re still, at your core, Little Miss Woods Comma Elle. And Thank God, because…” he takes a deep breath, still unable to look at her. “she is the most incredible, passionate, hilarious person I have ever met. Don’t let these people turn you into a cog in their preppy, gross machine. Make them accept you, for you.”_

_After a long silence, Emmett finally glances up at Elle, confused by her lack of response. She has turned away from him, pretending to fix her hair in the vanity mirror. “That’s, uh, really nice of you Em.”_

_He reddens, convinced he made her uncomfortable with his vulnerable answer. “Of course. Well, it’s uh, late. I should probably head home.” He gathers his things, sneaking peeks at Elle, who is still focused on the mirror._

_“8am at the library? I’ll bring the muffins and coffee”. She finally looks up at him, beaming._

_“It’s a date, Doc”. He smiles, biting his lip without realizing. When Elle looks up again, he’s gone._

_“It’s a date” she whispers to herself. Thank God she had the mirror handy to pretend to focus on her hair. She had never been given such a wonderful compliment by anyone, ever. She didn’t want Emmett to see her cry._  


“Uh, are you alright?” The attractive man holds out an airplane napkin awkwardly. Coming to, Elle touches a hand to her cheek and realizes she’d been crying.

“Oh God, this is so embarrassing,” she takes the napkin and blots her eyes, turning towards the window. “It’s just allergies”. 

“Well,” the man turns in his seat to face her fully, “if you want someone to talk to about your issues with, uh, _allergies,_ I’m happy to be a totally unbiased sounding board”. He smiles his megawatt grin, and this time, Elle notices it.

“That’s very kind. Thank you—“ 

“Mark, Dr. Mark Attison” 

“—Doctor Mark Attison” Elle smiles at him for the first time, desperately grateful for this distraction. “But I’m OK. It’s just a stupid personal thing”

“But how could a personal thing be stupid, when all our lives, outside of work, is personal?” He raises an eyebrow at her, and she meets his gaze, surprised by his emotional intelligence. 

“You make a good point, Doctor Mark. But I think i’ll be alright. Thank you, though”.

“Of course—“ 

“Elle. Elle Woods” _Little Miss Woods Comma Elle._ She ignores Emmett’s sweet, dorky voice in her head and reaches out to shake the Doctor’s hand. 

“So, Elle and Bruiser Woods. What brings you to LA?”

— 

Elle and the Doctor talk for nearly the entire flight, her law books laying unopened on the tray table in front of her. She babbles on about stupid things, like she used to do with Warner back on their dates in college.This time, however, she’s not talking to make him smile, or so he’ll invite her to Spring Fling. She can’t stop talking, because if she does, her thoughts will start. Thoughts about Emmett. And that’s when things get dangerous.

By the time the plane lands, Doctor Mark has convinced Elle to let him take her out in LA. He’s a surgical resident in Boston who is out for a case consult at— what luck? UCLA hospital. She promises to drive him down PCH, take him shopping at Fred Segal, and go on a hike to the Hollywood sign. _Activities you’ve dreamed about doing with Emmett,_ she thinks. 

“I can’t believe my luck,” Doctor Mark grins, as they stand on the curb at LAX “What do you know, I suddenly love flying! See you soon, Elle”. He winks as he walks off. She waves, turning towards the cab line. 

And then, alone, in the light of the sunny, LA day, it hits her like a train. 

Emmett hugging her after the trial. The party. Vivienne in his boxers. _Why can’t you go for a nice man like Doctor Mark? Because…. s_ he thinks. She knows where the thought will lead, and she won’t let herself go there. Before she realizes it, Elle has her phone out, and is turning it on. New messages from Paulette, from her Mom, and from Margot. Nothing else. 

She grabs a cab, giving the driver a cash incentive to take her the longer, more scenic route to her parent’s giant house. After thirty minutes staring out the window at the bright blue Pacific, she takes out her phone again, and starts typing. 

**[4:13PM, PST] Not sure if you got my message, but I’m in LA for the next ten days or so. Think it’d be good for us to create some space, so I’m not going to go on my phone at all this week. Have a good Spring Break.**

Elle clicks SEND before she can chicken out, immediately cringing at the formality of the text. _Emmett will know something is wrong,_ she thinks. _I’ve never not used an emoji, or exclamation point._ She hates that the thought of Emmett fretting over her being mad at him makes her so happy. _He deserves to sweat, the lying bastard._

_Or maybe there’s some big, duh explanation for all of this. Maybe he’ll hop on a flight and show up in the sand beyond the edge of my ocean front pool._ Elle scoffs, causing the cab driver to glance back through his rearview mirror. 

_Or maybe, I’m just a dumb blonde._


	7. Dumb Smart People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmett faces off with Warner. Paulette faces off with Vivienne. What could go wrong?

“And I said, like hell you will Chauncey, that’s my secretary!” The men around the table boom with laughter, gripping their crystal glasses of scotch tightly. Emmett laughs along, having no idea what the joke was, or how he could ever fit in with these rich old men. 

In the three and a half weeks since the trial, Emmett has spent all of his free time on associate recruitment, hoping to secure a new job before the little money he has saved up runs out. Because of the press hullabaloo following the trial, along with Vivienne’s surprisingly well-written drunk emails, the offers for interviews had poured in, and fast. Emmett has barely had time to TA, better yet think about the pink tornado that ruined his life (and, he may add, has yet to speak to him since that brusque text from LA), with all of the wining and dining. 

“So, Emmett, what made you know it was the right move to gamble on that young law student during the Wyndham case?”

Well, until that inevitable question came up.

“Well, Roger, you just have to go with your instinct…”

Emmett blabbers on with the same, milquetoast answer he’d given in every interview: 

It wasn’t about ‘saving’ Elle— _it was._

He didn’t want to get back at Callahan for hurting her — _he did_. 

It was a calculated, prudent, shark-like career move that had nothing to do with emotions— _yeah, right_. 

“Well, we here at Rogers Thomson Stone and Goldman are quite impressed with that decision,” the Partner assures Emmett, once he’d finished his spiel. “We’d love to bring you back for a final round of interviews” 

Before Emmett can reply, a tuxedoed waiter starts handing out plates of lobster. 

“We’ll discuss the details later," the Partner booms. "For now, we eat!” 

Emmett digs into the expensive lunch, his mind reeling. This is the third final-round offer he’s gotten this week. _And Vivienne is interning at this firm over the summer_. He smiles, excited about the prospect of working alongside his new, surprisingly funny friend. 

“Emmett?” 

The happy thoughts are gone as fast as they’d come. Emmett tenses up at the sound of Warner Fuckington The Fuck’s voice behind him. He dabs his face on his cloth napkin and turns. Sure enough, Warner is standing by the table, awkwardly hovering in an expensive looking suit. 

“Hello, Warner”. 

“Mr. Forrest, care to introduce us to your friend?” 

Emmett sighs deeply, wanting nothing more than to jump out the floor to ceiling windows just beside him. “Gentleman, this is Warner Huntington the Third. He’s a student in one of my classes”. 

“And I was counsel with him during the Brooke Wyndham case!” Warner jumps in, glancing around at the men. 

“Until he sided with Callahan and abandoned our team” Emmett snaps, glaring up at Warner. 

“Did you say Huntington? My lord, Warner, I haven’t seen you since you were a boy!” One of the old Partners claps his hands in delight. 

Emmett rolls his eyes. 

“Fellas, this is Arnie’s youngest son. You know, my friend Arnie? On the Hill?”

The Old Boys Club greets Warner warmly, as expected, inviting him to join them for a cigar. Emmett seethes, knowing Warner used him to snake his way into the lunch. He takes a few deep breaths to keep from exploding. 

“Emmett, can I talk to you for a moment?” Warner nods towards the restaurant door, ringing his hands nervously. 

_He’s going to beg you to help him get this job. To not blow up his spot because of Elle._ Emmett nods curtly, almost looking forward to giving this little prick a piece of his mind. 

Outside the restaurant, Warner stops on the sidewalk and begins to rock back and forth on his heels, unable to look Emmett in the eye.

“What do you want?” Emmett spits. He’s well beyond niceties. 

“I’m sorry for crashing your meeting. Really.” Warner lets the word hang there, for emphasis. When Emmett just stares him down, he continues. “I know it’s dumb, but, I just… I really need to work at this firm. To be near Vivienne. I made a huge mistake, man, and—“

Emmett glances behind him to make sure they’re out of sight of the restaurant. Then he winds up and PUNCHES Warner in the face with all of his might.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Emmett shakes out his hand, not thinking through the chiseled sharpness of Warner’s cheekbone. 

“What the hell!” Warner spits out some blood, looking up at Emmett like a wounded animal. “What the fuck was that for?”  
  
“What do you think, Warner?” 

“Ok, Ok, I deserve it. Look, I know I hurt Vivienne, and you two are some sort of buddy buddy thing now. But I’m sorry. I messed up, man. She’s everything to me” Warner begins to cry little quiet sobs, taking Emmett aback.

“Vivienne? What are you talking about?” 

“She dumped me, and then instead of fighting for her… I mean, you know. I proposed to Elle, and she rejected me too, and by that point I had no ground to stand on in trying to get Viv back. Fuck, man. I just need your help”. Warner keeps crying, his face buried in his hands. 

Emmett takes a step back, his vision blurry. “What. Did you. Just say”. The words come out slow, measured.

“I need your help”

“About Elle!” Emmett yells.

Warner looks up, confused. “What happened at the courthouse? Didn’t she tell you?” He shakes his head, hating himself. “I proposed to her after the verdict, with Vivienne’s ring. I have no idea what I was thinking, it was so embarrassing. She let me down easy, at least. She could’ve laughed in my face, after how I treated her” Warner pauses, wiping the blood off on his sleeve. “At least she ended up with someone nice like you”. 

Emmett stares at Warner. He feels frozen, like his feet are bolted to the earth and his hands glued to his side. Everything is warped, the sunny spring day suddenly distorted and in slow motion. Warner sniffles, turning to walk down the street. 

“I can’t go back in there like this. Just… make up an excuse for me. You owe it to me— I think you broke my nose”. He stomps off, swearing under his breath. 

_You need to go back inside. Think of your future._

But Emmett is thinking of his future. He steps off the sidewalk, and begins to run. 

— 

Vivienne sits down in the salon chair, glancing around for any sign of Paulette. She knows she shouldn’t be here, given that Paulette is staunchly on Team Elle in this current shit storm, but damn if Hair Affair doesn’t give the best blowouts in town. And tonight's meeting with her new firm requires the best. 

An assistant begins washing Vivienne’s hair, massaging her scalp slowly. Closing her eyes, Vivienne finally relaxes, momentarily forgetting all of her stress. When her eyes open again, she nearly screams.

Paulette leans over her, arms crossed and glaring. “And what makes you think you’re welcome here?” 

“Uh, hi, Paulette. It’s been a while” 

Paulette ignores her, turning to the assistant. “Linda, please wash out whatever’s currently in Ms. Kensington’s hair. And then show her the door” Paulette turns and stomps away, her knee-high boots clacking loudly across the floor. 

“Paulette, wait!” Vivienne jumps out of the chair, her wet, shampoo-filled hair dripping down her back. “I get you’re friends with Elle, and I am with Emmett, but what did _I_ ever do to _you_?” 

The salon goes silent. Customers and workers glance over, straining to hear the obvious gossip. Paulette smiles warmly at them and laughs. “Just a little squabble, nothing to see here!” She drags Vivienne into the back office, waving at her confused customers. Only when she slams the door does her smile disappear.

“What did _you_ do to _me?!”_ Paulette whisper screams. “Don’t you mean, what did you do to Elle?! I really couldn’t believe it when she told me,” Paulette shakes her head vigorously. “I thought she got through to you. I thought you were one of the good ones!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”. Vivienne crosses her arms, matching Paulette’s steely gaze. “The only thing I know, is that Elle spewed her gal-pal crap before turning around and stealing my fiancé. How are Mr and Mrs Huntington the Third, anyway? Is your salon even fancy enough for them anymore?” 

Paulette drops the mean act. She cocks her head. “Huh? I don’t follow” 

Vivienne sees the confusion, and lets her guard down. “Why do I feel like we’re speaking in different languages?” 

“Honey, I’m speaking English, you’re speaking bullshit” 

Vivienne sighs, annoyed. “To put it plainly: Elle and Warner got engaged after the trial. Which obviously really hurt, Paulette. Just because I broke up with him doesn’t mean I didn’t love him anymore”

Paulette is silent. Her eyes go wide. 

“And don’t even get me started on poor Emmett. He’s become one of my closest friends, because we’ve spent every night the past month getting drunk enough to forget how pathetic our lives are. And to forget _them._ ” Vivienne laughs dryly, shaking her head. “So yeah, Elle’s not my favorite. But I don’t see how any of this gives you reason to be a total bitch to me”. 

“You…” Paulette sits down, burying her face in her hands.“ You are the dumbest smart people I have ever met, in my entire life”. She groans and jumps up, suddenly energized by this realization. “There has been so much stupidity amongst you— I-- I want your Harvard cards revoked! Go to Mass State, for chrissake! Oh my god…” She trails off, staring jaw dropped, at Vivienne. 

“Paulette! Get it together. What are you saying?”  
  
Paulette grabs her shoulders. “Vivienne— Elle rejected Warner’s proposal. She ran off to go tell Emmett but… you got to him first”. 

Vivienne grabs Paulette’s arm for balance, “Oh my god…” 

“Honey, please tell me this is ALL a big misunderstanding. And that you didn’t sleep with Emmett the night of—“ 

“What?! Of course not! Why would you think that?” 

Paulette pulls Vivienne towards the desk. “Vivienne. I think you should sit down”. 


	8. Marilyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle and Doctor Mark have what should be a romantic dinner, while Emmett fights for his Little Miss Woods Comma Elle.

“I’ll have a Bulleit Rye, neat. Elle’s Bells, a Chardonnay?” Doctor Mark smiles warmly at her across the table. Elle returns his smile outwardly, but inwardly cringes at the cutesy nickname that she never asked for, but seemed to stick. 

“I’ll take a margarita actually,” she looks up at the waiter. “On the rocks, no salt”. 

“Right away, Miss”, the waiter collects their menus and turns away as Doctor Mark reaches to grab Elle’s hand. 

“So, my brilliant Bells, how are finals going?” he rubs his thumb over her palm in soothing circles, flashing that megawatt grin. 

Elle sighs, wanting so badly to be content with the moment. He’s attentive, loving, cares about her classes and career— _let yourself fall for him, you idiot_! But she can't. 

“I feel good about them,” Elle squeezes his hand, hoping her face doesn’t give away her miserable internal struggle. “The only one that may be tricky is crim, what with our professor on leave for his investigation”

“-that _you_ spearheaded!” Doctor Mark grins again. “Every female student at Harvard Law owes you a debt, I’m serious!” The waiter returns with their drinks, and Elle takes a massive sip to silence her racing brain. 

“I really didn’t. It was Enid who found his past victims and then went to the President’s office to threaten a press expose unless he was fired.” Elle smiles, genuinely this time, thinking about the swell of love she felt when Enid told her this plan over Spring Break — _at least you have one female friend left, with Vivienne being a backstabbing lying whore._

“That’s incredible. You always have such great things to say, I can’t wait to meet her” Doctor Mark brings Elle back to reality. “So, for criminal law, then, has it just been the TA finishing out the year? He’s who supervised you at the trial right? That must be nice, to have a friend be the one giving you your exam” Doctor Mark sips his whiskey, oblivious to Emmett and Elle’s history. Elle chugs her margarita to stall her response. 

“We aren’t friends, actually. I’ve been skipping class and just doing the reading myself, it’s easier” Elle stares at her drink, terrified she’ll tip off Doctor Mark to her feelings. 

“That’s my Bells, so smart you don’t even need class! I had a lecture like that in med school…” Mark continues on with a long story about an anatomy lab, as Elle tries to listen. Her phone flashes on the table, and when she glances at it to see who had texted, her world stops. Mark’s words become inaudible, distant, as she discreetly reads the message:

**[7:21PM] Elle, please call me. We need to talk—there’s been a huge mistake. Everything that has not made sense will make sense, just please call me back.** ****

She quickly silences her phone, smiling up at Mark, who is onto minute six of this seriously boring story. _Why is Vivenne reaching out to me? What could this mean?_ Elle finishes her drink, tapping the glass to get the final drops. _Did Emmett fuck her over too? How dare she come crawling back to me, especially before tomorrow!_

“Bells?”   
  
“Huh?” Elle smiles way too wide, overcompensating for her lack of listening.

“I asked if you were excited for the interview tomorrow. You’ve barely talked about it, but 60 Minutes! That’s a huge deal” he grabs her hand again, beaming. _God he is so patient, and thoughtful, and kind. What is wrong with me?_

“Yeah, I guess I’m just nervous,” _about seeing them again._ “A lot has changed in a short amount of time. It feels weird to relive the trial now”

“Well I, for one, can’t wait for the rest of the country to see just how special and smart and damn sexy my girlfriend is,” he wags his eyebrows mischievously and Elle laughs, despite herself. “You’re wearing the pink halter dress I got you?” 

“Of course! My favorite piece of clothing” _Except Emmett’s sweatshirt_. “But i'll pair it with my blazer, so I look more professional”

“Aww, hun, no! Forget professional, you have to show off that dress! My little pink Marilyn Monroe!” 

The lights dim, and Elle stops breathing. She pulls her hands from Doctor Mark’s, clasping them together tightly. Her face must give away the panic, because Doctor Mark leans forward, his eyebrows knit with concern.

“Babe, what’s wrong? Did I say something?”

“Uhm…” Elle can’t seem to form words. _Warner. Emmett. Callahan. Will I always be Marilyn? Will the Marilyns of the world ever be respected? Ever be equal?_

The waiter returns with their entrees, and Elle is grateful for the momentary distraction to pull herself together. When the waiter leaves, she finally looks up at Doctor Mark, forcing a smile.

“Sorry, Babe, I…the weight of the interview tomorrow just hit me, I guess. I’m nervous” 

He exhales deeply, picking up his knife and fork. “Phew, I thought I’d upset you somehow.” Elle grimaces at his white-toothed grin, the smile that usually made her feel so warm. “You know what?” he wipes his mouth between bites. “You should sleep at mine tonight. There’s more space, some wine, and other things… we can get your mind off the big event”. 

Elle almost says no, terrified her fragile emotional state would make her slip and say something about Emmett, or Vivienne, but she just nods. She focuses her mind on Doctor Mark’s large bathtub, and soaking in lavender, epsom salt bubbles. 

Her phone BUZZES again, and she glances down to see two missed calls from Vivienne, four texts from Paulette, and one from Warner. _What is going on?_

Doctor Mark watches as she stares, perplexed, at her phone, and swiftly grabs it from the table. “No wonder you’re nervous! I’m sure your friends are blowing up your phone about studying, but you get a hall pass for tonight”. 

Elle mildly panics at the sight of Doctor Mark holding her phone, but then quickly relaxes. She can’t emotionally handle dealing with Vivienne just yet. She flags down a passing waiter.

“Excuse me? Can we get another round?” 

“Now _that_ is more like it!”

— 

Emmett stares at Elle’s dormitory door, unsure what to do. He holds his hand up to knock, then puts it down. Reaches up, and back in his pocket. _What are you so afraid of?_ He shuffles his feet, bouncing up and down. _Basically everything._

Finally Emmett squeezes his eyes shut and knocks twice, and then three times — their secret passcode. When no one comes to the door, he peeks his eyes open. 

“Elle?” he calls. He listens for any signs of her, or Bruiser, but it’s quiet inside. _What do I do now?_ Emmett hadn’t thought that far. Actually, he hadn’t thought at all. When he learned what really happened from Warner, Emmett walked— well, more like raced— to campus, and up the two flights of stairs to Elle’s room. The room he spent all of this year in, but hadn’t seen since… _since you fucked up your chance to be with her_. 

He didn’t know what he was going to say to her, or how their meeting would go. But all he knew is he wanted— no, needed—to see her, to figure out the truth, before the big 60 Minutes interview tomorrow.

The interview was to be a group one, with the reporter talking to Brooke, Vivienne, Enid, Emmett, and, of course, Elle, about the headline-grabbing case that led not only to Brooke’s freedom, but the end of Callahan’s career. Emmett knew he couldn’t say no to the opportunity, especially once the firms he interviewed with caught wind of it, but he’d been dreading seeing Elle every day since he said yes. _I wonder if Elle has been dreading seeing me, too,_ Emmett thinks. But why— 

All of a sudden, Emmett feels like he’s been hit by lightning. The events of the past few weeks since the trial play over in his head like a super-speed montage. _If Elle didn’t say yes to Warner, then why has she been avoiding me? Why did she bolt off to LA, and stop all forms of communication?_ Elle is not the type to avoid. Nor to run. So what happened to her, that made her want to cut _him_ out of her life so quickly? 

The fear of this unknown almost leads Emmett to abandon his plan, and run back down the stairs. But he plops himself down in the dirty hallway. Last time, he assumed the worst and let that assumption ruin him. This time he wasn't going to back down so easily. If Elle is not with Warner, then Emmett was going to fight for her. No matter how long he'd be waiting outside her door, or no matter the reason she left him in the dust after the trial. _Little Miss Forrest Comma Elle,_ Emmett thinks. 

He waits there, his resolve strengthening with every minute, for hours. Only at 2:30AM, when it becomes clear Elle will not be sleeping at home -- _God don't let her be in a man's dorm --_ does Emmett start to deflate. Even still, he remains where he is, dozing off into an adrenaline-fueled sleep. 


	9. The Courthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the big interview is here, and Emmett, Elle and Vivienne are about to be reunited for the first time since the last time they were in this building.

“What are you doing here?”

Emmett snaps to, automatically wiping the drool from his mouth. Looking up expectantly, he sighs. It’s only Enid. 

“Good...morning?” He rolls his neck from side to side, already in pain from the awkward position he fell asleep in. “What time is it?”

“8:30. I’m supposed to be giving Elle a ride to the courthouse, but she’s not answering her phone” She glances between Elle’s door and Emmett. “Once again, what are you doing here?!” 

Emmett stands with some effort, dusting off his pants. He smiles at Enid, who just stares in response. “I came last night to talk to Elle, but she’s not home. Obviously.”

"Or she just doesn't want to see you". Enid bangs on the door. “ELLE! You in there? It’s me. Not Emmett. So you can stop pretending to not be home!” They wait a few beats, Emmett straining to hear any bit of sound from inside. “Okay fine, she’s not here. Must be at the Doctor’s.” 

Enid spins on her heels and starts towards the stairs. Emmett hurries after her. 

“Doctor? What do you mean? Is she OK?” 

Enid continues on, talking to Emmett over her shoulder. “No, not at the Doctor. At the Doctor _’s_. As in Mark. Her boyfriend?” 

Emmett stops short, the wind knocked out of him. Enid feels his absence and turns around, looking up at his slouching figure. “Dude. Did you not know?” 

Emmett begins towards her slowly. “She hasn’t really been speaking to me, I… was it recent?” 

Enid sighs, pitying Emmett despite not wanting to for the sake of girl code. She glances at her watch. “Look, we’re going to be late to the interview… why don’t you drive with me. I have no idea what’s happening between you two, and I don’t especially care to-- but I’ll tell you what I can. Okay?” 

“Thank you, you don’t understand how--” Enid’s already turned and started walking swiftly towards her Prius. Emmett hurries to catch up. “Okay then!” 

\-- 

Elle and Doctor Mark drive in silence to the courthouse. They'd had a wonderful, romantic time last night, but it had quickly soured when she refused to wear the halter dress to the interview. Mark was frustrated by her change of heart, and took it personally. Elle, meanwhile, knew she could never explain why the “Marilyn” dress was so horrible to her now without spilling everything about Warner, Emmett, and the rest. 

She opted for a pink pantsuit with a low black heel instead, hoping that maybe -- just maybe-- pants would keep men from underestimating her for the day. Elle was so tired of it. 

They pull up to a stoplight, and Doctor Mark drums the steering wheel. “Look, I’m sorry I got so upset. It’s just a dress,” he glances over at her, trying to read her expression. “But I think I freaked out because it feels like it’s more than a dress, it’s a symbol, of us... “ 

Elle picks at her nails, not looking up. 

“And I know, of course, no physical item could really be a symbol of us. Because we’re so much more than that superficial crap”. He keeps driving, staring at the large courthouse only a few blocks away now. “And, just for the record, I think…” he coughs awkwardly. Elle finally looks at him, equal parts curious and terrified for what he’ll say next. “I think I love you.” 

Elle’s eyes dart forward. There’s a long silence, as they round the final few streets to their destination.

“Elle’s Bells? Did you hear me?” 

“Yeah. I’m just… processing” 

_This can’t be happening._

“I know it’s soon, and I don’t want to scare you. I just had to tell you”. He parks the car and turns his body fully towards her, grinning. "I love you, Elle's Bells Woods. You're one of a kind." 

Elle feels the weight of the car pushing down on her, crushing her so intensely that she can’t breathe. She needs to get out. She can't be here. 

“Mark, I have to go. I’m late”. She unbuckles her seatbelt, grabbing her purse from the back.

“C’mon, Elle, don’t be like this…”

“Thank you for the ride. I’ll call you.”

She jumps out of the car without looking back at him, and walks as fast as she can towards the courthouse. _He can’t love me,_ she thinks _. He barely knows me! He hasn’t spent hours in my room, talking about our deepest fears and passions as a way to procrastinate studying. He hasn’t put my needs first, or tried to really understand who I am and how I view the world. He hasn't talked to his Mom about me so much that she thinks of me like her daughter already. He wouldn't risk his entire career to help me succeed, to protect me from Callahan, to show me just how much he loves me._

_He’s not Emmett._

Elle’s mind is still spinning as she pulls open the heavy wooden doors to the courthouse. People bustle around her, rushing to and from various offices and courtrooms, but she is so in her own world she might as well be the only person on the planet. _What do I do? How can I be with him now, after this? Is it over?_ Elle is so worried about her current situation that she entirely forgets where she is, or who she is about to see. Until she does. 

He's standing, facing away from her, in the middle of the front lobby, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, and his suit -- _the suit I bought him_ \-- rumpled just enough to fit his ratty corduroy vibe. Him being in front of her is so natural, so comforting, that it takes Elle a moment to realize that seeing him is very much _not_ normal and _not_ natural. Not anymore.

It's him. Living, breathing, standing, in front of her. She stops a few yards from him, having no idea what to do next. As if feeling her presence, Emmett turns around to face her. 

He looks terrified, but still smiles at the sight of her. She melts inside, and hates herself for it.

They stand like this, staring, letting the busy world pass them by, for what feels like hours. 

"Love?" 

Elle inhales sharply. "What?"

"Love, by Chanel. You're wearing it" 

Emmett smiles shyly and looks down, fearing he's overstepped. Elle has a sudden urge to run and throw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Like they did the last time they were at this courthouse. Before everything. _Before he slept with Vivienne._

Elle's knees nearly buckle when she remembers. How could this perfect, sweet, wonderful man in front of her have done that? _Mark would never_. Elle's face turns to stone, inscrutable to Emmett. Seeing her guard going up, Emmett takes a small step forward. "Elle, I think we should--"

"They're waiting for us, probably. We should go" With every ounce of strength in her, Elle turns away from Emmett and starts down the hall towards Courtroom 6, where they will have cameras and makeup chairs waiting. 

Elle hears Emmett catching up behind her. He's speaking so softly, it's almost as if it's to himself. "I thought you and Warner were engaged... But I didn't do anything. With her. With anyone. Elle..."

She pushes through Courtroom 6's door to where Enid, Vivienne and Brooke are sat, getting touched up by a makeup artist. Vivienne immediately stands, moving towards Elle. 

"Elle, we need to talk, you didn't answer your phone--"

"NO!" Elle puts a hand over her face, overwhelmed, confused, and in more pain than she felt possible. "Just leave me alone! Please!" Elle tries to compose herself, as Emmett comes through the door behind her. Acutely aware of the camera crew and producers around her, Elle forces a small smile. "Let's just get this over with, and go home. OK?" 


	10. From the Rooftops

The large wooden chairs are arranged in a semi-circle in front of the witness stand -- the same witness stand where, 34 days before, Chutney Wyndham confessed to accidentally murdering her father. Elle is impressed with the set -- the producers somehow managed to make the fluorescent lights of the courtroom dark and mysterious, giving an air of Law and Order mystery to the scene. She stares at the gloomy light above her, too terrified to look at the people flanking her on either side. 

Enid and Vivienne were placed on the ends, followed by Brooke and Emmett, and finally, Elle, plopped right in the middle. She feels the left side of her face burning -- the side where both Emmett and Vivienne sit -- but refuses to move even an inch towards them. _You can do this, Elle. Just breathe._

Pam Thomas, the legendary newswoman, sits opposite Elle in a tasteful suit, getting some last minute touch ups before the interview begins. She had saved Elle from her meltdown earlier, sweeping her away for a private chat before Vivienne or Emmett could get to her. Elle knows it was just a tactic to butter her up before the segment, but she still is grateful to Pam for their shared moment. And her many compliments of Elle’s pink suit.

“Everyone ready? Anyone need some water?” One of the PA’s stands in front of the group, trying to suss out the intense, awkward energy. 

“Water would be great” Emmett squeaks out. He feels as though his throat is closing. After Pam swept Elle away, Vivienne pulled Emmett aside and explained everything Paulette had told her. _No wonder she won’t speak to me! She saw Vivienne in my apartment. In my boxers. While we were belligerently drunk._ Emmett’s cheeks go pink, again, completely horrified by the hazy memory. He tries to imagine how he would feel, had he walked in on the same scene between Warner and Elle. _I would hate her. My whole world would fall apart._

Emmett wants nothing more than to pull Elle to the side, to clear the air, to tell her he loves her, but she won’t so much as glance at him. He tries to keep from staring too intensely, but it’s hard. And it doesn’t help that he was placed directly between Elle and Vivienne. 

“I want this to feel like a normal conversation. I know it’s weird, but try to forget the cameras are there. Resist the urge to look into them directly,” Pam addresses the group, smiling wryly to ease them into submission. “I’ll ask questions to each of you, but feel free to speak up if you would like to address something not directed at you.” She crosses her legs and smiles, looking around at the nervous faces. “Let’s have some fun!” 

\--- 

Twenty-five minutes into the interview, the group has gotten into the swing of things, mostly forgetting the awkward personal tension. It helps that Brooke can talk forever, babbling on about her time in jail, her Delta Nu connection with Elle, and her experiences with Chutney as a mother-in-law. And, to Elle and Emmet’s great relief, she is the only one who doesn’t know what is going on between Elle, Emmett, and Vivienne. For the most part, things are going smoothly. Straightforward lawyer-show talk. And so far, they have avoided the topic they all assume is coming, and Elle is dreading: Emmett taking over for Callahan. 

“But like, think about it. With Callahan as my lawyer, we would have never found out about the perm. He doesn’t even know what a perm is! Right?! So I’m beyond lucky that I got the amaaazing Elle as my replacement. She legit saved my life!” Brooke turns to Elle and squeezes her arm, hamming up their friendship for the camera. In reality, they spent little time together in Malibu, and text only occasionally. But Elle doesn’t mind Brooke making them out to be BFFs. 

“Speaking of Callahan, I think we should discuss that elephant in the room”. Pam looks between the five of them, as they each shift uncomfortably. Enid takes one for the team, speaking up to detail how she went about ensuring he was put on ‘indefinite leave’ from Harvard. Emmett feels Pam glancing at him, and knows the next question that is coming.

The question that so many law firm interviewers have asked him. The question that he created his perfect, robotic spiel for. The question that he lies through his teeth to answer, to avoid talking about the real reason he chose to step up and take over for Callahan. 

“And Emmett.” Pam turns towards him. Emmett feels Elle’s body tense beside him. “It was a big decision to step forward and supervise Elle, considering it meant you would be killing any chance to work for Callahan, or his firm, in the future. What made you agree to be co-counsel with Ms. Woods?” 

Emmett takes a deep breath. His normal, scripted reply suddenly feels entirely inadequate. He has no idea what to say. But then he sees it -- Elle, almost imperceptibly, has turned towards him, her eyes meeting his before flitting away. It’s all the courage he needs. 

“Was it guilt, after you realized you had worked for a predator for so long?” Pam gently prods with a follow up, as Emmett realizes he’d been dumbstruck silent for almost 30 seconds. 

“No”. Emmett clears his throat. He adjusts his seat, and clasps his hands together. “I did it because I was--I am-- in love with Elle.” 

Elle tenses up immediately. Vivienne exhales sharply, coughing to cover up her shock. Enid just stares, slack jawed, and Pam uncrosses her legs, leaning forward to take in this juicy twist. Brooke lets out a sharp, haughty laugh. “I mean, we knew that!” 

“No”-- he turns to Brooke, sneaking a glance towards Elle, and then back at Pam. “You don’t know. None of you. Some of you may think you do, but you don’t understand the half of it.”

He pauses, gathering all the strength he can muster. “You don’t know that I’ve been in love with Elle Woods for- for months, since I first sat down next to her outside that non-costume costume party. That I’ve loved her since she dragged me down to a trailer park to help her brand new friend win her dog back from an ex, purely out of the goodness of her heart. Since she demanded we make a secret handshake, and a secret door knock, and at least one hundred secret, inside jokes, just to make me laugh,” Emmett shifts in his seat, his confidence growing. He speaks directly to Pam, unable to look at Elle yet.

“Elle Woods is the type of person who makes everyone around her feel special, and worthy, and loved, even when they don’t return those sentiments in kind. She is irrefutably herself, with such a strong moral compass, and sense of purpose, that it knocks the wind out of me every time I hear her speak. She sticks up for the underdog, even if she has no stake in the result, cares in equal parts about shopping and justice, calls people ‘butthead’, and babe, and is always, one hundred percent, completely right about everything. She never gave up Brooke’s alibi, and in doing so, maintained her integrity and her loyalty. She trusts her instincts, follows her heart, and, maybe most importantly, single-handedly brought a tsunami of pink to the Harvard campus”

Emmett grins, feeling a weight being lifted off his chest, one sentence at a time. He doesn’t realize it now-- but will weeks later-- that this is the first time he’s ever expressed out loud just how he feels about Elle Woods. Even with Vivienne, when they commiserated, he never felt free to explain the depths of his love, as she constantly was pushing him to move on. But it’s now or never. Elle needs to know. Everyone needs to know. Caution be damned -- Emmett wanted to shout it from the rooftops. 

“I spent three years at Harvard before I met Elle. The whole time, I kept my head down, worked two jobs in addition to class, and just tried my hardest to make the money that could eventually buy me stability, and my Mom her dream house. But after one day spent with Elle, I realized I’d wasted all of that time, only thinking about the payoff, and not living my life to its fullest. Elle works harder than anyone I’ve ever met, but won’t give up an appointment at the Hair Affair, or a movie night with a friend, just for the sake of an ultimately frivolous assignment. She is the epitome of work life balance, of femininity and intensity, of honor, and kindness, and a hilarity so specifically funny that an offhand, witty comment of hers can bring you to your knees”. 

He nods at Pam with assertion before turning towards Elle, his face less than a foot from hers. He sees tears falling out of her eyes, but her gaze remains fixed ahead, giving away no indication of how she feels. Though he speaks about her, Emmett remains facing Elle, looking only at her. 

“I am in love with her, and I have wanted to tell her… for forever. In fact, I planned to tell her the night that Callahan kissed her. But after learning what he did, and how he made her believe she was just a girl meant to shut up and smile, a girl not worthy of studying at Harvard, a girl not more than her looks, I knew words would never be enough. If I really loved her-- If I was any different than that superficial creep, I would have to prove it to her, by lifting her up, supporting her, and standing by her side, as a partner. And ever since that day, since the trial, I have chosen her, over and over and over again, and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life, if she lets me. There may have been bumps in the road, and wires that got crossed, but there is no one else. _She_ is my Doc. My best friend. The love of my life. Little Miss Woods Comma Elle” 

Emmett swallows, his voice shaky. The room is silent. No one -- not even the crew or producers or courthouse workers-- makes a single noise, or movement. He turns back to Pam slowly and, with a flourish, drops his hands in his lap. 

“So that is why I chose to supervise. Because I had to. It really wasn’t a choice at all”

Pam blinks at him, unsure how to respond to such a bomb, even as a veteran newscaster. “Wow…” she trails off. She looks between Elle and Emmett, immediately noticing the disconnect. “And Elle, did you know, at the time, that that was why Emmett stepped up?” 

Elle snaps her gaze to Pam. Hot, fat tears roll down her cheeks, and she narrows her eyes at the reporter. She can see so clearly now that Pam doesn’t give a shit about her, or any of them. It's all just a scoop. 

Seeing Elle about to blow up, Vivienne quickly stands, her deep voice breaking the crackling silence. “Okay! I really need a break. Can we take a break?” 

Pam glares at her, furious the moment has been ruined. "Fine. Let's take five". 

Elle bolts out of her chair, striding towards the back of the room and into the judge’s chambers as fast as her legs will carry her. Emmett and Vivienne share a look before she physically shoves him out of his chair. He stumbles, before running after Elle, pulling the door shut behind him. 

The rest of the group stare at one another in a stunned silence. After a moment, Brooke looks around conspiratorially. “OK but like, this is going to make _such_ good TV!” 

\-- 

Emmett stands at the edge of the office, staring at Elle’s back as she sobs against the far window. He starts swiftly towards her, his protective mode in high gear, but then stops himself, giving her space. 

“I’m… I’m sorry, Elle. That I told you like that. It wasn’t fair,” Emmett is nearly whispering. “And you know me, I’m a private person. But you wouldn’t look at me, and… Elle, I couldn’t spend another second with you thinking I would do something to hurt you _._ That I would sleep with Vivienne, or ignore you, or treat you like Warner ever did. I couldn’t let you think that I wasn’t completely, utterly in love with you”. Emmett reaches the judge’s desk, leaning against it slightly. He looks down, terrified, as Elle wipes her eyes and slowly turns to face him. “I hope you’re not mad”. 

“Emmett, no I--” she bites her lip, willing to keep the tears from falling. “My boyfriend-- I have a boyfriend, Mark-- he told me he loved me today”. Elle stares at Emmett, her eyes searching his face for a reaction. A flash of pain runs across it, before he steels himself and steps further towards her. 

“I don’t care.” 

“You don’t care.” Elle hiccups, more tears falling. 

Emmett comes close enough that he could reach out and touch her.. But he doesn’t. “I don’t care. I’ll fight for you, as long as it takes. If 100 guys are in love with you. Which, let’s be honest, there probably are”. He smiles slightly and brings a hand to his face, surprised to find tears staining his cheeks as well. 

“When he told me that he loved me, I couldn’t say I loved him back," Elle speaks slowly, deliberately. "For the same reason I rejected Warner’s proposal, after the trial”. She takes a tiny step closer to Emmett, her courage wavering. 

“When Vivienne told me you’d agreed to marry Warner, it was the worst moment of my life”. Emmett whispers. He steps forward, reaching to gently hold her forearm. “I’ve spent every day for the last month miserable because I thought you chose him”. 

“But I didn’t”

“I know. Now, I know”.

She closes her eyes and leans forward, resting her head gently on Emmett’s chest. There’s so much she needs to say, but this moment-- just touching him, smelling him, feeling his warmth-- is already too much for Elle to handle.

“What was the reason?”

“What? Elle’s voice is muffled against Emmett’s suit. 

“The reason that you couldn’t tell your Doctor that you love him back. Or accept Warner’s proposal. Other than him being a dick, of course” Emmett smiles through his tears, wrapping his hands around her shoulders. 

Elle looks up at him, and he’s brought back suddenly, viscerally, to the hug they shared after the trial. If only he’d just told her then. If only he hadn’t ever let her go. 

“You know the reason--”

“Elle--”

“Love. I’ve found my way to love” she leans her forehead against his, their gaze never breaking. “I followed where it led”. She breaks into a small smile and pulls away from him, taking his hands in hers. “I wasn’t crying because I was upset by what you said. I was crying out of grief, for all of the time we’ve wasted, by not being together” Elle squeezes his hands as Emmett matches her grin, all of his worry melting away. 

“Emmett Forrest, I am so deeply, madly, in love with you, too” she smiles, ready to match his epic speech with one of her own. "I--"

But she never gets the chance. Emmett pulls her into him, finally meeting her lips to his, and they melt into a deep, passionate kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck, giving herself over to him, to her happiness, to her destiny. Neither notice the knock on the door, nor the second one, nor the PA sticking his head in to get their attention. Finally, Enid’s booming voice snaps them out of their embrace, leaving them giggling and intertwined.

“Ready to finish this interview, my lady?” Emmett sticks out his arm and bows, as Elle takes it with a curtsy, laughing. 

“Our subjects are waiting!”

They walk, arm in arm, back to the door. Before they open it, Emmett turns and plants one more kiss on Elle's lips. She opens her eyes slowly, basking in the sight of him. "I just wanted a moment, before the rest of our lives begin" he whispers. 

She kisses him again, and they open the door. 


End file.
